Chapter 2 #2
“Every remaining cue should’ve died.” Tamsin leaned closer and traced the programmed sequence with one finger.
“That rack never should’ve received an ignition command, and even if the electronic system malfunctioned, the physical safeguards should’ve stopped the shell from launching.
The second fuse definitely shouldn’t have kept burning after shutdown. ”
She remained close, her upper arm resting against mine, and I kept my palm at her waist. Her breathing changed when my fingers tightened against her side.
I studied the launch diagram again and asked her to walk me through the right-side battery from the power source to the mortar rack.
She kept it concise, and I compared her explanation to what I’d watched happen.
The flicker in the indicator, early ignition, failed support, and live fuse that kept burning after the board went dark made me think this wasn’t just an accident.
The angle of the rack mattered almost as much as the failed safeties.
Its recoil had not simply knocked it loose.
The support had given way in the direction that turned the tubes toward the most crowded section of the meadow.
The bad launch created immediate panic at the spectator line and pulled every trained eye toward the low-flying shell.
I looked from the diagram to the damaged rack again. One failure could happen, two could turn a bad night into a disaster, but this many independent protections collapsing in sequence meant some bastard had fucking arranged this.
I began a cautious sweep, separating ordinary blast damage from anything deliberately placed.
Hardware had scattered toward the wash, cases had overturned, and smaller components had shifted in patterns consistent with the concussion.
My humor stayed easy when Tamsin caught me watching her, but my attention never left the field for long.
Something near the pyrotechnics trailer caught my attention. One Bellamy case sat apart from the cluster, upright despite the force that had knocked surrounding equipment onto its side. A compact component showed beneath its lower edge, tucked too deliberately against the trailer to be debris.
My smile disappeared. The first malfunction had drawn responders into the staging area, while this device waited beside enough material to turn the rescue into a larger disaster. It could ignite the trailer, erase the scene, and catch the people who came back to help.
“Clear the fucking field,” I ordered over the comm. “Everybody back now. Expand the perimeter another hundred yards and move every Bellamy employee with it.”
My club brothers responded instantly as the remaining crew and responders withdrew. Stryker reinforced the order while prospects redirected anyone approaching from the crowd side. I kept my eyes on the device until movement beside me made me turn.
Tamsin started away, then stopped after several steps and looked back at the trailer. Determination tightened her expression as she turned toward me. “I know the approved layout. I can identify every case and component that belongs there.”
Her knowledge could save time, but I was not placing her beside a live device.
I lifted my chin at one of my guys standing a few feet away, and he tossed me his radio.
I switched it to a clean channel, handed it to her, and walked her beyond the expanded danger zone.
She went, but every rigid line in her body showed how much she hated the distance.
“You moved me too far away to see,” she called through the radio, squinting toward the trailer beneath the harsh field lights.
“That’s how safe distance works, pretty girl,” I answered dryly.
She shifted half a step to the side, trying to improve her angle. Her frustration came through the radio. “I still can’t see the lower edge of the case from here.”
I walked over and moved her several feet to the nearest position that I was comfortable with and stopped her with one hand at her waist when she tried for more. She leaned into my hold before catching herself, then glanced down at my hand where it spanned her side.
“That’s it,” I told her, tightening my fingers when she tested the limit again.
“You’re very bossy.” She lifted her face toward mine, her cheeks warming even while irritation sharpened her expression.
“Only when I’m right.”
One strawberry-blond brow rose beneath the brim of her cap. “That must be convenient.”
“It’s been a good fucking life,” I replied with a wink.
I released her only after I was certain she intended to stay put. As I walked away, Tamsin muttered something I failed to catch, but she stayed where I put her.
I approached slowly, describing the case and exposed component over the radio.
Tamsin identified the surrounding Bellamy equipment, confirmed that the case had been moved, and told me the visible piece did not belong to her company.
She directed me to the nearest emergency cutoff and identified the section of the trailer holding the most sensitive material.
When I told her to hold the channel, she went silent without filling it with questions. I felt her attention locked on me as I crouched beside the case and let the field disappear.
My smile was gone, my breathing steady, and every movement measured. The radio stayed silent while I worked carefully, killing the initiating path and rendering the secondary mechanism harmless.
I completed another sweep around the trailer and checked the displaced equipment for any further threats. Only when I was satisfied did I straighten and tell Stryker that the immediate staging area was clear. Then I headed for Tamsin.
My smile returned as I approached her. She came forward the moment I reached the line, radio clutched in one hand and demands gathering behind her full lips. Anger looked far better on her than shock.
She stared past me toward the case I had just cleared. “That was beside our trailer.”
“Yeah.” I kept walking until I stood directly in front of her.
“It could have ignited everything.” Her fingers tightened around the radio, and the pulse at the base of her throat began beating faster.
“That was the idea.”
The color drained from beneath her freckles, and I stepped close enough to block her view of the case, then waited until her eyes returned to mine. Resting one hand at her waist, I kept my voice calm. “It didn’t.”
Tamsin studied my face, her breathing slowly easing as she recognized the expression I had put back on for her. Some of the fear left her eyes as they searched mine. Then it was replaced by wary suspicion. “You’re smiling again.”
“Immediate danger’s over,” I pointed out, leaving my hand at her waist to keep her anchored in front of me.
“And now you’re going to annoy me?” Her brows drew together, but one corner of her mouth threatened to lift.
“I like to stay useful.”
Her mouth twitched before she caught it. My grin deepened when her almost smile became harder to hide. The color began returning to her face, and I considered it a significant victory.